Luxuria
by VioletPistol
Summary: Vulpes' fourth of seven lessons. Fourth part in the seven part sequel to 'Know Your Place'
1. Chapter 1

It was the utter relaxation that awoke Vera, dark eyes slowly fluttering open in the warm glow of the sweet smelling tent.

Her mind was slow, but it was still able to process the unusual softness beneath her, something very different from her usual tattered mat that lay beside the table in the far corner.

The second thing she realized was the free movement of her hands, though upon flexing them they still felt raw from abuse. She was not chained.

Vera sat up quickly; the thin blanket that once encased her sliding from her chest, a third observation alerting her to the fact that she was naked. It felt wonderful, however, to be free of the thick robes she was usually forced to wear around The Fort. It was always _so hot _and even now in this tent the rays of the sun seemed to be reverberating off of the coarse tent walls, providing a musky hum of liquid, consuming heat.

After a moment's inspection of her current position, she realized that she was in Vulpes' bed.

A random, consuming panic suddenly washed over her in this knowledge, her base instincts rapidly screaming at her to flee the comfort of the mattress before discovery, wrists sensitive, shoulder throbbing, mind racing—

—But then… _Oh_…

Memories of last night came to her in a fevered flash as she attempted to scan the recesses of her brain for any clues, the lingering stickiness to the skin of her back probably due to Vulpes' act of fucking her on the table that still bore the many fruits the slaves had provided.

She couldn't really complain over the mess however, instead finding the nostalgia of sliding restlessly against the slick, mashed collection of foods as Vulpes held her down a rather award-inspiring accomplishment.

"Am I to assume that you enjoyed your reward?"

A startled glance towards the smooth address alerted her to her fourth—er, or was that fifth—observation of that strange morning.

Vulpes was sitting casually at the table she was once associated frequently with, though the room didn't look so disastrous as it did last night—quite the polar opposite actually, immaculate as it had always been. Vera assumed the slaves had cleaned the couple's mess up before it was even light out.

Vera couldn't help but notice how immensely attractive he looked in that moment; face still as sharp and intelligent as always, noble nose and hard eyes, but he seemed so… sated. He was wearing some of his armor, except for his breast-plate and shoulder protectors, leaving him in his armored kilt and dull red tunic.

God forbid Vulpes Inculta somehow gaining the ability to read minds, for in that moment, watching that man sit so comfortably at a table he had taken her upon more then once, with his steely eyes now observing her nakedness casually, Vera actually felt a surge of affectionate devotion—the sudden urge to gain his approval.

Vera was so utterly disgusted with the foreign feeling that she stamped it down violently with the secondary urge to make his blood boil.

With a lazy smirk and a lingering stretch, she was out of bed, strutting in all her dirty, scarred glory over to his lap, settling her bare butt onto his thigh and curling into him in a rather feline-like manner.

He stiffened underneath her, seeming to be trying to lean away from the sticky, sweaty feel of her skin—probably due to the spotless condition of his freshly washed body. "Get off me before I chain you back to this table."

"Mm…" She breathed into his neck, wiggling her behind against his crotch lewdly with a smile pressing to his steadily thrumming pulse. "Ever get morning glory?"

Despite his disgust with her, she definitely felt the derisive chuckle that rumbled in his throat.

"It is not morning, you imbecile." He snapped, leaning his face away from hers with a haughty grimace as she pressed lazy kisses up his jaw. "It is mid-day. I allowed your rest, you'll need it."


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh _yes_, I do." Vera winked, sliding her right leg down until both limbs were hanging on either side of Vulpes' hips, her awakening inner muscles pressing hotly against his lap. He shifted at the new position, ceasing in his attempts to escape her affections and instead choosing to watch her carefully. "What have I done to deserve such care?"

Vulpes' eyes narrowed as her hand snaked under his lower-wear, tensing at the feel of her small hand wrapping around his girth.

His eyes slid closed at the pleasant tugs she lavished upon him, her lips pressing softly to the bridge of his nose in response to the strong hands that gripped Vera's backside.

"Are you starting to like me, _Vulpes_?" She teased acidly in his ear, gaining a sharp, painful slap to her behind that sent her teeth gnashing together in frustration.

Vera hated this feeling of consuming stimulation upon seeing Vulpes. Sure, she was never really one to deny the way he got her motor running, because he _did_, plain and simple.

But she wanted to _hurt_ him, make him fall to his _knees_, _realize_ his wrongs—she wanted this _so badly_, it almost defined her being.

From the moment she met this man in Nipton, she absolutely loathed him, wanted to twist _his_ sanity in her fist and show him who held the power, man or woman.

_That's hypocritical_, Arcade had once told her. _You're striving to do the very thing you hate about the Legion, it won't work, never does. It'll develop into some twisted, tyrannical cycle._

And of course, Arcade was right. Her relationship with Vulpes _was_ a cycle; it took him slapping her ass while she gave him a hand-job to realize it.

Vera wouldn't give up—_couldn't_ even, it just wasn't in her. Neither would Vulpes, however, for he was so completely in tune with his beliefs that nothing anyone could do would ever justify a debate.

Though she felt herself slipping, found herself missing Vulpes' touch rather then her friends, found his knowing glances more comforting then Boone's strong shadow or Arcade's wise advice.

She hated him, she knew that at least. But she wanted to challenge him so badly—_dare _him to conquer her.

It was all so fucking conflicting, especially with his teeth biting into her breast as she squeezed his length in her fist.

"Are you truly so insatiable?" He hissed, tongue feeling absolutely filthy against her nipple as his hips jerked instinctually into the enclosure of her hand. "I thought I had taught you the wrongs of greed, my dear Courier."

"Did you?" She chuckled breathlessly, tempted to simply turn the situation into full-fledged sex as she hovered conveniently in his lap. "Funny, don't remember that."

"Would you prefer a lesson on greed once more?" He ground into her ear, anger flaring in the ease with which she riled his temper.

With a strong hand he wound a steady grip around her delicate throat, watching thoughtfully as she wheezed, her small hand releasing him altogether to grab at his choke-hold in a panic.

To his further infuriation, she used this leverage to grind herself against his lap, shadowed eyes sparkling bitingly as she gasped. "No thank you, Sir."

Vulpes was rather conflicted in that moment; the more primal being inside of him aching to show this insolent worm exactly what she was asking for. However, a more composed part of him, watching on quietly in the depths of conscious thought, told him that she was acting… strange.

The Courier had, since her first day in the Fort, been endlessly amoral and ravenous for base pleasures, which of course incited the need for the seven lessons. Though, until today, she hadn't shown such vigor in deliberate sexuality.

Of course, Vulpes could've simply accounted this to the woman's typical whorish behavior. This though, this _raw_ need that thrummed hotly from her body into his, it felt so very different… Desperate, almost.


	3. Chapter 3

Vera felt fairly disturbed by the shadow of a smile that touched Vulpes' lips, an overwhelming air of dominance oozing from him so suddenly that she had the vague urge to get onto her knees.

There was no time for such primitive desires however, for she was suddenly full of him, strong hands forcing her hips down until she felt utterly split in half—given the rather stretching position her thighs were in.

Vera shivered, a groan rolling from her throat as she sunk back like deadweight against the table top, a peaceful smile in place as a slow, languorous pace was set inside her.

She hummed in approval as Vulpes' hands splayed against her spine, arching her back forcefully until she sat up, elevated enough for his face to bury absently in her chest while she rested her cheek against the top of his skull.

Her eyes fluttered closed distantly with the pulsing movement of their bodies, Vulpes' hips moving with controlling purpose, a different kind of claim being laid to her body.

And oh… _she could feel it_… That obedient yet disjointed haze that began to overtake her. All she wanted was for him to take her and wrap her up in his power; in that moment at least, she _could _admit that.

So rarely did moments like these get better, at least for Vera, given her relationship with luck. Usually Vulpes would disrupt it with an arrogant comment that got her riled up, or vice versa.

But, as it would seem, a rather horny lady luck was on the Courier's side today.

For when Vera opened her eyes upon the sound of a quiet rustling of tent flaps, her line of sight met with the bemused yet rather captivated eyes of Lucius.

He obviously came for business—what else would he be there for—but he stayed quiet in his observation of the two, a small smirk playing at his lips as his gaze intensely held Vera's, causing an involuntary whimper to fall from her lips.

Vera could admit that she'd jump Lucius' bones in a split second, she'd wanted to ever since that day she was unceremoniously fucked silly in front of him. Rather, the thought of Lucius _and_ Vulpes getting the job done _at the same time_ just tickled her in _all_ the right places.

Though, simply sharing some filthy eye-contact while being pleasured by another man was satisfying enough, for now.

Vera almost _reached_ for Lucius with a particularly deep push, a shake of restraint passing over her as she briefly leaned back to tear at Vulpes' shirt clumsily until it was discarded on the ground.

This lasted for another minute or so, the air intensified by the loss of Lucius' smile upon the quickened pace set inside the Courier, her mouth falling open and her eyes burning so strongly into the Praetorian's that he almost forgot what he came for.

But then, Lucius cleared his throat, causing a loud and very frustrated groan to sound from the Courier.

Vulpes paused, looking over his shoulder through the curtain of the Courier's dark hair to see Lucius, standing in his tent with a curt nod in his direction and a lingering gaze on the woman in his lap.

"Ave, Vulpes, I apologize. You seemed…" Lucius paused, taking his eyes away from Vera to settle them on Vulpes' narrowed gaze. "Preoccupied."

"Hardly so." Vulpes sighed, shoving the Courier's embrace away from him dismissively, causing her to flop back onto the table as she snorted insolently. "Is there a problem, Lucius?"

"No, I wouldn't say so." Lucius replied, pausing to study the Courier's naked, stretched out form on the furniture. "The Legate is to arrive in a few hours. Earlier then planned, but nothing more conflicting then that. I trust you and… your… Well, the Courier, will be attending?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Yes… We both will." Vulpes sighed, sounding rather bored as the Courier pressed slow, descending kisses down his calming chest. "Is Abelia occupied? I'd have her and her girls fix the Courier, if not."

Vera looked up curiously at Vulpes, though he still wasn't acknowledging her even as she slid off his lap and onto her knees in front of him, peeking under his armored kilt with a private smirk.

"She is available, I believe." Lucius mused, repressing a chuckle as Vulpes suddenly stiffened, the sight of the Courier's head buried in the man's lap allowing Lucius a moments thought while the couple was preoccupied with new physical sensations. "I'll send my girl for her. Lord Caesar wanted me to let you know, as well, that the Courier is to be escorted by my guard… and, well, I believe you know the other rule, Vulpes."

The man in question was unable to stop the shaken breath that escaped from his tightened lungs, muscles taught with the invading, uninvited pleasure in his groin.

"I do, Lucius, thank you." Vulpes managed to compose himself briefly, gripping a handful of the Courier's hair with a taut jaw and a slight curl to his lip, said woman's roguish eyes flashing up to meet Lucius' stare. "I am well prepared, in fact. I believe Abelia will be able to provide me with all that's needed. When will you need her?"

"Whenever the women are done with her." Lucius replied with a polite smile to his comrade, glancing briefly at the position aforementioned woman was in before giving a parting nod. "And, of course, whenever _you_ are finished with her."

A muffled snicker sounded somewhere from Vulpes' lap, making Lucius' smile widen for the smallest of seconds before he took his leave. "Ave, Vulpes, enjoy yourself."

"Ave." Vulpes called hoarsely after the Praetorian, relaxing in his seat once the tent flaps settled behind the crimson of the man's armor. After a moments rest, Vulpes lifted his reclined head and looked down at the Courier through hooded eyes. "You are utterly appalling; do you realize this woman?"

"Oh, absolutely..." Vera lifted her eyes from her current objective, sliding her tongue up the length of him with a contemptuous smile that had his teeth grinding. "I'm a profligate whore, _remember_?"

He almost slapped her, though he thought that rather idiotic, given the current location his cock was currently in. One snap of the jaw and he would be shamed and damaged for life, unfit to pass on a legacy. The very thought almost made him withdraw himself from such a vulnerable position, however, the Courier chose to take the entirety of him back into her mouth at once.

The sensation was quite wonderful. He'd felt it not so long ago of course, from the last woman he had taken before the Courier's imprisonment. That had felt quite good as well. Though there was something about the way the Courier handled him, with utter lack of shame and that dark glint of mischief in those eyes of hers.

He had no doubt she was rather good at this from vast amounts of experience, and while that was rather infuriatingly disgusting, it suddenly sparked an epiphany in his slowly fogging mind.

Usually Vulpes would have to object to initiating a lesson so close to the previous. Although, he supposed this could be an exception, given that she was almost begging for it. He could tell the moment that shine of brown in her shadowed eyes glanced up into his, almost daring him with their defiance as she worked her tongue around him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Faster." He ground out, tightening his grip on her hair in warning. "There is much to be done in what little time we have."

She obliged, though wincing at the feel of her hair being tugged past comfort.

Vulpes allowed himself a moment of indulgence, letting his head loll back as he breathed deeply, slowly lifting his hips towards her mouth as he continued. "You will remember all you've been taught thus far… You behave, Courier, and I will make your life pleasant."

A hum vibrated around him, making his biceps tighten and his hips twitch further into her mouth, a deep breath inflating his chest.

It was a brief, jerking release that had his lungs burning from strain; his grip jerking her hair up until her gaze met his, a shake to her hands resting on his thighs that told him she was just as aroused as he was, yet without release.

He almost smiled at the thought, relaxing his grip as his thumb stroked the soft skin beneath her ear. "Swallow that."

Her eyes narrowed, though Vulpes sincerely doubted she had any qualms with semen. His Courier made as if she were about to insult him, as she usually does in moments such as these.

"Shh." He muted her dismissively with a finger to her lips, her brow furrowing. "Don't speak with your mouth full."

Vulpes almost returned the wide smile that spread across the girl's face, her eyes still burning insolently even after he watched her throat working briefly before she smacked her lips loudly with a depraved, "_Ah_."

"You never cease to astound me." Vulpes remarked wryly, catching her chin in his grip just as the flaps of his tent rustled behind him. He removed his gaze from the Courier's to look over his shoulder, eyeing the three women that stood waiting nervously at the entrance of his tent.

"I apologize greatly, Sir, if I'm mistaken..." The thickest one, Abelia, stuttered under the intensity of his eyes. "Lucius' servant sent for me, she said you needed my assistance?"

Vulpes briefly eyed the familiar group of women—one fat, one dreadfully skeletal, and one small enough to resemble a child. They were the slaves in charge of the women's care, mainly for the wives and priestesses. Midwives, of sorts, along with possessing a great talent of cleaning filthy rats, such as the Courier.

"Yes." Vulpes drawled with a cold smile, stroking absently at Vera's hair. "I need you to have my Courier cleaned and dressed for the dinner with the Legate. Make her look presentable."

He then tucked himself discreetly away in his lower-armor, standing with a rolling stretch through-out his torso as he stared down at the girl still on her knees in front of him.

"You listen to these women and let them do what they must, is that understood?"

"Yes, _Sir_…" The Courier very obviously mocked, licking the salty taste from her lips. "Are you staying?"

"No." He replied dismissively as he redressed himself, strapping his armor in routinely as the three women already began to fuss over the Courier. "Lucius and I will be waiting for you once these women are finished with you."

Vulpes took a moment to watch the proceedings, the women wasting no time in pouring a large bucket of water over Vera's head. Said girl gasped in shock, attributing to Vulpes' notion that the water was indeed cold.

He watched them rubbing her down in what oils and soaps were available, his Courier shivering and glaring wildly at the women who treated her as if she were a Brahmin being primped for slaughter.

Vulpes smiled slightly, thinking that it was a rather appropriate description, given the girl misbehaved.

She finally seemed to notice his stare, looking up under dripping eyelashes to sneer grumpily at him. He knew why… she always got this way when denied climax.

"Remember your duties, girl." Vulpes smirked in parting, securing the last buckle in his armor before swiftly departing from the sweet smelling tent.


	6. Chapter 6

The fighter in Vera was rather antsy for this so called, 'dinner'—though she still couldn't imagine the Legion higher-ups dining together in complete normalcy—given the fact that all of the men attending were located somewhere on her metaphorical hit list.

She knew that this would be a nice opportunity to simply wipe out the competition. If she could just cut off the head, the rest of the Legion would probably panic.

Without her rifle however? Well, even Vera could admit that she'd be dead within a minute, given the Legion's aptitude for close-range melee fighting.

Besides, that would leave the NCR to deal with—probably made confident by the Legion's absence—and Vera didn't really want to think about how awkward that whole situation would be.

To keep herself from planning the mass slaughter she simply concentrated on the proceedings around her.

The three women, though rather inconsiderate towards her comfort at first, were now lavishing her with the kind of treatment that only _rarely_ appeared at the Ultra Luxe. And for the first time in a long time, the Courier actually smelled _nice_.

Though she felt sort of traitorous once they draped her in red and gold—it almost made her feel like she was dressed up in the Legion flag. The fabric, however, was very soft and glossy against her cleaned skin, making her feel vaguely like some sort of empress or queen.

"Ah, not to be ungrateful." Vera tread on unstable ground with speaking to these women, unsure of exactly what they would tuck away for later confessions. "But… my tits won't fall out of this, right?"

The largest of the women, apparently named Abelia, looked up from her adjusting of the Courier's hair, narrowing her eyes in confusion for a moment before a small, reserved smile spread across her face. "No, Ma'am, they won't."

Vera, though nodding with an awkward sort of smile, sincerely doubted that. She wanted her tight armor that completely held all her bits and pieces all together. While these robes were comfortable, they were too loose and flowing. She didn't know whether she'd trip and eat dirt or catch the fabric on her chair and flash the entire table.

"Finished, Ma'am." Abelia spoke up once more, all three of them stepping back from her unceremoniously, pausing in their quick retreat only to gather up their supplies. "I believe your master is expecting you, outside of Lord Caesar's tent."

The way these women acted around her—skittish, frightened, wary—it made Vera wonder. Were they afraid of _her_? Or her '_master_'? Both had sufficient grounds, and it made Vera suddenly very curious about the horror stories the Legion told about her behind her back.

Though she didn't exactly have time to ask them, for as soon as they left the tent a familiar face entered, Lucius looking her up and down briefly before smiling in obvious amusement.

"You clean up quite nice." He commented as she approached him, her pleasantly warm eyes darting up his form appreciatively in return. "I'm sure Vulpes will be pleased."

Legion armor was quite masculine and rather sharp, she'd always thought so, but she'd never really noticed the elegance of the Praetorian armor. It looked even better on Lucius, she noted, studying the revealed muscle of his arms and legs, along with the quietly humming Ballistic Fist on his hand.

Without Vulpes around, she admittedly felt slightly more inferior around this man, given his position in the Legion army and the rumored strength of his punch. Though the benefits of Vulpes' absence outweighed the cons, so Vera took the initiative of running a delicate touch of fingers along his revealed bicep, thankfully not inciting a beating, but instead only a slight rise of his brow and his usual calm, questioning look.

Vera only smiled up at him, secretly triumphant over the interest she'd captured in this man, and leaned up closely to his lips, the soft vulnerability of her chest pressing up against the solidness of his armor.

"Does it please _you_?" She teased quietly, a grin spreading over her lips as the man's free hand rested experimentally on the intake of her waist.


	7. Chapter 7

He didn't fumble like an idiot over shy compliments, nor did he blush at the feather light touches her hand trailed up his arm—because those, apparently, were a boy's trials.

Instead, Lucius smirked down at her, lifting the hand nearly concealed in his Ballistic Fist to her face, the fingers peeking out from the machine lifting her chin up towards him.

"Personally, I prefer you with _less_ attire." He smiled with the kind of presence that immediately initiated a strange respect from Vera, her eyes studying his in anticipation. "But I'm sure I'll be able to witness that once again, don't you think?"

Vera could've had him there and then, she could tell. However, she was sure there would probably be _some_ consequences for ruining the Legion's jolly dinner party and Lucius certainly wouldn't be the one receiving punishment out of the two of them.

The thought made her simper up at him, lowering herself down to the flats of her feet as her hands slid from their position on his arms. "Of course."

He nodded, a very signature quiet look about the warm set of his lips that had Vera reposed and curious at the same time, though still opting to take her spot beside him as he escorted her out of Vulpes' tent.

It was very bright outside, Vera noted irritably, blinking rapidly at the harshness of the Mojave's summer sun. And hot too, as it _always __was_, the air dry and endlessly suffocating as a few Praetorian's marched rather ceremoniously on either side of Lucius and Vera.

Looking at the men surrounding her, Vera could recognize a fair few. A moment's thought and she had finally placed the four Praetorians to be apart of the group of men who witnessed the Courier's first sexual experience with Vulpes. They seemed to recognize her as well, a knowing look about their glances that triggered that strange, dark arousal in the pit of her stomach.

She caught one of the guards' eyes as the group approached Caesar's tent, giving the hard looking Praetorian a waggle of her brow. It merely earned her a small smirk, but the look that he shot her beneath the lowered sunglasses was enough to satisfy the rumbling need in her gut momentarily.

"_Very_ good…" The Courier looked up, narrowing her eyes half-heartedly at Vulpes as he studied her appearance leisurely. "You actually look like a woman now, congratulations."

She wished she could come up with a scathing comment to humiliate him in front of his peers, but Vera found herself endlessly fascinated by how regal Vulpes looked in that moment. His armor suited him fabulously, all hard angles and stark crimson. It was as if he knew that if he stood in such a way, dressed the part of a soldier, that she would have absolutely no chance at humiliating him.

Unless, of course, she took the dramatic route. Though Vera knew there was a time and place for awkward situations, and seeing as this was a life or endless days of torture situation; it seemed the safest to simply be the obedient concubine.

So she put on a rather devilish smile, moving with a sway of her hips from Lucius to Vulpes, wrapping her arms around one of his and pushing her body tightly against the strength of his armor.

Vera leaned up on her tiptoes to brush her lips under Vulpes' jaw, purring lowly against his skin. "I like your combat boots, _master_."

He hummed in reply, busying himself with something momentarily behind his back before running a warm hand from the small of her spine up to the back of her neck. His large hand wrapped easily around her, giving Vera the vague feeling that he was attempting to prepare her for something unpleasant.

Vera looked up at his face as he smiled in some sort of private amusement, leaning close enough to her that if she were to merely lean up on her toes she could be kissing him.

However, a moment later, a heavy, sharply cold constriction closed around her neck with an audible _beep_, the Courier stiffening as the explosive collar snugly hugged her throat upon her swallowing. Vulpes looked as if he almost laughed, pressing a feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth as she gaped up at him.


	8. Chapter 8

"It was either this or being chained to your chair." He smoothed against her cheek, calloused thumb rubbing against the fine hairs on the back of her neck. "I assumed you would've liked to show off your newly acquired table manners, so I opted for the collar…"

The Courier was so absolutely disgusted that she almost couldn't react, perhaps even more so ashamed of this strange, debased trust that she had momentarily held for Vulpes. No, not trust, _affection_, and that was almost _worse_.

Vera dug her nails into Vulpes biceps, inciting no more then the slightest narrowing of his light eyes before he smiled. It didn't matter that the pain wasn't fazing him physically, as long as she was harming him, it made it easier to stay calm.

"I am _not_ your _fucking__ slave_." She spat through clenched teeth as Vulpes escorted her calmly into the tent behind him.

"Oh, I know that…" He drawled as his hand pressed warmly against the small of her back. "But I also know that you are _mine_, slave or not, and such freedom does not constitute bad behavior on your part. Be cautious, girl."

The tent was musky with the smell of powerful men, a scent that the Courier was far too familiar with now, and she was momentarily frightened by the sheer number of Legion officers currently in attendance. If she _were _to misbehave then she had nowhere to run, no possible way to defend herself. The thought was terribly consuming, so Vera took to hissing in Vulpes ear.

"You can blow my God damned head off. I don't care, but I will _not_ be treated like some insignificant slave girl. Do you have any idea who _I__ am_?"

Vulpes paused at that, letting the Praetorians file around the couple mechanically to take their place behind Caesar's throne. Vera distantly noticed from a quick glance over Vulpes' shoulder that a large table had been moved in front of Caesar's throne, adorned with a lavish, steaming feast that had Vera's stomach growling.

But then the image of soldiers in crimson, laughing and speaking amongst themselves, was blocked from Vera's view as Vulpes backed her up into a corner of the tent, their bodies obscured from view by a sheer fabric draped from the ceiling.

His gaze met hers, the grey of his eyes clashing with the deep brown of hers as he leaned in closely to her lips. Vera could feel his hand on her back, sliding across the swell of her backside to her hip, where he squeezed the bone and flesh there possessively.

Vulpes' other hand pressed warmly to her cheek, long fingers splayed affectionately along her jaw whilst his thumb gently traced her bottom lip.

Vera was so caught off guard by the warmness of his touch that she blinked; the fire in her chest—the humiliation and fury—simmering to a halt as Vulpes pressed his body to hers intimately.

"Know this, Courier. You are my enemy and I am yours. The very fact that you are here now and not rotting on a cross is testimony to everything that you owe me." He hushed, a bite to his tone that brought Vera back from the temporary faraway state she was encased in. "But also recall that you still bear the Mark of Caesar."

Vera blinked once more, rather stupidly, and looked down at her chest, Vulpes pressing his lips fervidly to her neck was absently apparent in her mind.

He was right…

The Courier brought her fingers up to touch the bull insignia on the Mark, a provocative heat of realization rising in her chest as Vulpes sunk to his knees to press a kiss to her breast, strong arms winding around her waist.

Vera thought his embrace a simple touch of affection until she felt his fingers pressing to the collar around her neck. Her suspicions were answered once she heard the beep of the slave collar sounding in resignation. Had he deactivated it?

Looking down at him on his knees before her, eyes closed as he inhaled the scent of her perfumed breast, she could most certainly find herself believing his actions…

"Show my Lord all that I have taught you and act as the obedient woman they all believe you to be." Vulpes spoke quietly as he rose to his feet; armor brushing smoothly against her robes as he once again towered over her. "Know your place, Courier, and use it wisely."

She simply stared at him, utterly staggered at the change in his demeanor. Had it really been so easy to wrap him around her finger?

And why? Why so suddenly and especially in this moment?

A number of questions could have been asked on her part, _if_ she hadn't been wholly convinced that this could be nothing more then an act. Either her obedience was direly important to Vulpes or he was actually trying to gain her trust.

However, all suspicions were buried beneath a solid hum of heat once Vulpes pressed his lips to hers—an act so utterly bizarre outside of sex that it seemed almost illicit.

This kiss turned into a very consuming act, drawing her entire focus on the man pressed against her, moving with such possession that all of the mindless bullshit he had implanted in her head was now rearing forth.

Vera _hated_ mind games and found it rather ironic that she had been placed in the care of a master of such trivial things…

"Vulpes, bring our _dear_ Courier here. We await her arrival." Caesar's gruff call sounded, making a sigh hitch in Vera's throat.

Vulpes' teeth tugged on her lip in a rather condescending manner before he finally stepped away from her, meeting her eyes with purpose before he led her into view casually.


	9. Chapter 9

Vera felt vaguely like a dog on a leash as Vulpes led her to her seat, a certain contented air surrounding the Frumentarius that completely counteracted his previous behavior. It had the Courier narrowing her eyes at the side of his face, studying the sharp features suspiciously as she settled uneventfully into her seat.

Much to Vera's delight, Lucius sat on her other side, taking his usual place beside his Lord obediently.

She supposed these were all security measures—the collar, the seating arrangements, the excessive number of guards—just in case the tent full of the Legion's strongest wasn't enough to dissuade any bad behavior on Vera's part.

The silence began to deepen once she had taken her seat and Vera began to sweat from the tension. It was immensely unnerving to have not only Caesar studying you intensely, but the famous gold snarl of the Legate's mask training in your direction.

"_This_ is the infamous Courier you so often speak of, Caesar?" A rolling thunder of a voice startled Vera, her eyes flashing from her empty plate up to the gilded mask.

He was absolutely massive, in both body and presence. Vera could nearly smell blood coming from this man's very being, as if the evil of his actions had been stained upon him permanently. She _would_ be absolutely terrified if she wasn't certain that her place as 'The Courier' was valuable—_priceless_.

Celebrity had its power… that was for God damn sure.

However, politics were to be reserved for another time, certainly not now—when it could cost her a tongue.

"Strange, isn't it?" Caesar snorts, fortunately releasing the lock of strain in the tent—though just by a mere inch. "Your name, Courier?"

Vera paused, looking pensively at the powerful man upon the strange question. Why did he _care_? She certainly couldn't be the main attraction at this dinner—surely an entertaining subject to discuss for a moment, men reveling in the conquering of an enemy, but was Caesar truly interested in the person behind the title?

It seemed so bizarre, but she sighed away the misgiving in her gut and folded her hands in her lap politely.

"Vera."

A quiet joke in Latin was spoken by an officer, something concerning her name, and there were a few snickers around the table.

"Vera… what?"

She looked to Caesar once more, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Think you've heard of me before?"

Caesar narrowed his eyes at her answer and the strong note of her voice, leaning back in his throne in his observation of her as the servers began to plate the food.

"No, I sincerely doubt it. You are a mere instigator among empires, though a skilled instigator at that." He sighed dismissively, catching the twitch in her brow. "I'm simply interested in the vague stories of your past. You must come from some education; it would explain that sharp tongue and bold tone."

"Well…" Vera took a breath, nodding in thanks to the slave who poured wine into the belly of her chipped chalice. "I don't remember much,"—she gestured with a wry grin to the noticeable scar above her brow—"but I know that my parents were with the Followers."

"Really." He grunted apathetically, eyeing a server as she nervously poured a healthy portion of wine into his goblet. "And you are one as well, I'm guessing."

Vera smiled discreetly behind the rim of her cup, glancing around the table briefly to discover that the attention of the Legion was on her every move, hanging off her words suspiciously, as if any second she were about to leap from her chair with a bomb strapped to her chest.

Hardly, these robes were far too low-cut.

"Absolutely." Vera gave Caesar a knowing glance, a mere flash of a gesture, but she knew it had hit home. "They're a bit idealistic for my taste, but I find their cause a lot more hopeful then most organizations in the Mojave."

"Hopeful?" He challenged, leaning forward in his seat to meet her eye.

Vera's breath gave a hitch at the hand suddenly on her knee beneath the table, the warmth of rough callouses squeezing into her leg in a pleasant kneed.

Of course, she had come to know that touch rather intimately and found herself flushing with a tingling warmth—the pink on her cheeks rather noticeable to the onlookers, however oblivious they were to the cause of it.

"Yes, hopeful." She replied simply, a smile brightening her features pleasantly as the hand hidden beneath her robes traced delicate circles against her skin. "Their morals are pure enough, and education in medical science and pre-war history is invaluable. Besides, I've gotten very far from my education with the Followers, as you can see."

"Intelligence such as yours is common, _Vera_, and it does not necessarily conjure success." He paused, a smile spreading across his weathered face, eyes wandering pointedly over the explosive collar hugging her throat. "As you can see…"

There was a collective chuckle around the table, Caesar cocking his head to the side in his subtle triumph.

Vera simply smiled, catching the ruler's eye and giving a shrug. "True, but I have found that there is a vast difference between an _educated_ intelligent man and an _uneducated _intelligent man."

The chorus of mild laughter settled discreetly to silence upon the reply, obviously waiting to see the reaction of their leader.

Vera, however, knew she had done _something_ right, for the strong hand at her knee slowly kneaded up her thigh in an affectionate caress.

"Take… _Vulpes_, for example." Vera smiled, the sweat rolling down her ribs as she purposefully mispronounced the name and very visibly spoke out of turn. His hand squeezed her painfully hard, warning her.

Nonetheless, Vera simply shifted her gaze to Vulpes, eyes scanning his solemn, narrow-eyed expression with a shadowed smile.

"An absolutely brilliant tactician and endlessly skilled in… _psychology_." There was a snort from Caesar at that, but she continued. "However, he was born a tribal—where formal education is lacking, and then, I'm assuming, raised here amongst your morals? No offense, but I somehow doubt that you educate your men in the physics of the human mind. What Vulpes has is a gift. Absolutely raw."

She stops for a moment then, spreading her legs beneath the table as her eyes alight impishly in Vulpes' burning glare. "Somewhat of an uneducated intelligent man, if I do say so myself."

Vulpes looks as if he will kill her, strong jaw working visibly beneath his skin and the muscles in his bicep shifting as he bruised the skin of her thigh. Caesar watches this curiously, the private interaction between the two speaking wonders about their unique communication.

Then Caesar turns his stare to the Courier, watching her expression as she smiles, as if her amusement is derived from some intimate joke between her and the leader of his Frumentarii.

This Courier certainly held her own aura of authority, even in the midst of the enemy. Truth be told, she was a rather fascinating being, and endlessly mysterious. The background of the Courier was widely unknown, which was confirmed to be derivative from her memory loss.

She was… different. A person of ordinary morals and apparently a mercenary at heart. It was evident that she fought for what her own personal gut dictated, yet she had the presence of a born leader.

Such a contradiction, and a very influential one, which made for a very interesting ally.

"What of the rest of my men?" Caesar catches her attention. "Since you seem to be so observant."

Vera is conflicted for a moment, having trouble remembering each Centurion's name, much less his demeanor and skills.

So she shrugs once more, lifting her wine to her lips. "I couldn't say. I'm most intimately acquainted with Vulpes' skills."

That hum of laughter is back, this time hearty and honest. Though it was at her expense, Vera has gained enough experience in the dealings of powerful men to know when to bend over and take one for the team. Ah… Quite literally.

She looks to Caesar with a light smirk, deciding that he looks a lot younger when he's laughing.

Vera thankfully manages to play off the further descent of Vulpes' hand with as much nonchalance as she can manage, turning to wink at Lucius, who is smiling in that quiet way of his.

_Shine,__ Vera,__ shine_…

"So I've heard." Caesar shakes his head, motioning a server over with a slight wave of his hand. "How is that coming along, Vulpes?"

Vera has to clumsily swallow a mouthful of bitter-sweet wine as the warm fingers beneath the table begin to trail slowly up and down the conveniently bare junction between her legs.

A very signature smirk crawls haughtily onto Vulpes' face, a flash of straight teeth appearing momentarily behind the steam rising from his brahmin steak.

"Very well, actually." His smooth drawl works wonders on the warmth spreading along Vera's thighs, her eyes sliding shut with a swallow working in her throat. "I've found the Courier to be a very quick learn. Now I suppose I know why she is so eager to be taught."

The breathlessness in Vera's forced chuckle is noticed by Lucius, who pauses in his spearing of a potato to study her. Her cheeks are warm and her fingers are tautly strung, gripping the hem of her robes. A discreet glance to her lap alerts Lucius to exactly why she is so flustered.

A strong, pale hand is buried between the woman's thighs, tendons noticeably working with strong purpose.

Lucius then looks around the table as Caesar falls into conversation with Lanius, noting that all eyes now seem to be trained cautiously on the Legate, no longer on the Courier.

_How__ convenient_, he notes with a soft smirk.


	10. Chapter 10

Vera stares down at the food on her plate—an assortment of small portions of various mute colors—trying to imagine the ingredients to every dish in order to ignore the heat burning in her thighs.

She couldn't do this… not now… Not with the fucking Legate's voice vibrating in her ears, not with Caesar a seat away from her, glancing towards her at every mention of the NCR, not with Lucius' eyes raking along her face, studying her reactions to the pleasure Vulpes was working into her.

Hadn't Vulpes ordered her obedience? Good behavior didn't tie too tremendously into a fingering beneath the table. What were they, teenagers?

Vera's next breath shook as she eyed one of the Praetorian guards behind Caesar, his eyes wandering about the room in complete lack of knowledge of her burning stare. Her gaze followed the warmly colored skin stretched taut over his masculine features, strong arms flexing as he cracked his knuckles absently, tongue snaking out to wet dry lips... Almost too easily Vera could see herself on top of that man, holding his face down in the dirt as she rode out the tension in her gut.

She looked then to Lanius, and though she couldn't see his face, the mere mass of his figure and the blunt power to his voice made the next pass of Vulpes' fingers all too potent, a shaken breath escaping audibly from her throat—surely not missed by the always watchful Lucius, whose ears practically perked like a dog at the sound.

Vulpes had noticed as well, taking his eyes from the private conversation occurring between Alerio and Cato, their words concerning the upcoming visit of President Kimball temporarily catching his attention. Until, of course, he noticed his Courier's current demeanor.

She was staring with familiar intensity at the Legatus, the darkness of her eyes studying the man's famed brawn with all but drool rendering forth, not to mention the hips that grinded insistently forward against his fingers. Vulpes… didn't quite know what to think of this. He supposed the Courier held some sort of misguided attraction towards the men of the Legion.

Perhaps this was derived from his lessons or even a life-long fetish, he wasn't sure, though given that she was playing with fire in focusing whatever fantasies she possessed on Lanius, he couldn't help but let a flare of irritation flood his chest.

So he let a small smirk play over his features as he leaned to the Courier's ear, lips close enough to send a shiver through her body. "Luxuria, my dear one, do you have any idea what that is?"

She takes her eyes from the Legate with her cheek brushing his as he discreetly snakes his tongue along the curve behind her ear. Such actions go unnoticed by most, and those witnessing the act apparently don't think enough of it to speak up. Though the occasional snicker isn't completely uncommon.

"No." She is unable to say anything else lest she give herself away, he assumes, for he can feel the growing heat against his rolling fingers. He wonders absently what she may be fantasizing… or perhaps she doesn't need to daydream, after all, she has shown to be quite the exhibitionist.

Vulpes takes a moment to maneuver his fingers, sinking a long middle finger slowly into her body and encasing himself in soft, wet heat. She jerks from surprise at this and he can feel the muscles tightening around his finger, making a spark of his own arousal warm his groin slowly.

"It may be your undoing one day, how interesting—that you don't seem to realize it." Vulpes hushes, the hot breath of his words inciting another delicious tightening. "Lust, Courier, it devours you."

He watches her face as he pulls away casually, a slow smile etching into his lips upon the swallow that works the Courier's throat, her eyes sliding shut as she becomes encased in the smells and presences around her.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Skyrim devours me—<em> Oh, um, _ahem_. **

**No but really.**


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